Title: Duet (1/1)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Author: jenolas
Summary: (and warning) A shameless bit of Erestor and Glorfindel
fluffiness.
Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not
me.

Duet (1/1)

As he did every evening before he retired, Erestor strolled through
his favourite garden, listening to the sounds of the insects,
bidding the trees and plants a good night as he basked in the glow
of the starlight he loved so well. That the meticulous and highly
organized Advisor would prefer the wild array of flowers that were
allowed to grow as they willed amongst the long grass to the orderly
beds and carefully colour matched blooms of the other gardens that
boasted only a short, soft green carpet to walk on would likely come
as a surprise to those who did not know him well.

This was the time of day when he felt free to set aside his
responsibilities along with his formal attire, for Erestor had left
his black robes in his chamber, untied his braids and allowed his
raven tresses to fall freely over the loose silk shirt he wore over
his leggings. His feet were bare and he cared not that the evening
dew was making them damp and dirty as he crushed fallen leaves
beneath them as he walked, humming a soft serenade to the stars.

He loved the peace and serenity he found in the darkness, the
intoxicating scent of the night blooming flowers that was carried on
the crisp, clean air and the freedom to behave as he wished. There
was no-one to witness when he chose to run through the grasses
like a wild creature, his arms outstretched, his hair flowing
untamed in his wake, an almost feral grin of delight lighting his
face.

There was no one to be shocked or aroused when he stripped naked
beside the small, dark pool before slowly immersing his body into
the cold, clear water to cleanse the day's troubles away. No one to
see his eyes well with tears as his aloneness suddenly washed over
him, no one to hold him during the night, whispering words of love
as they shared bodily pleasure.

Until today there had been no one he wanted as a lover, but the
arrival of the golden haired Lord Glorfindel had changed that and he
had fallen hard and fast, as he had often thought he might. One look
had been enough had set his body aflame with desire and place an
unbreakable chain of love around his heart. Erestor entertained no
hope of his love being returned, for Glorfindel had spared him but a
brief glance and a few formal words of greeting before following
Elrond to his study. The affectionate hand on his lord's shoulder
and the merry laughter they shared over some softly spoken secret
had only confirmed this, at least in Erestor's mind.

As much as he wished it were not so, etiquette demanded he attend
the evening meal, but as soon as good manners allowed, he had
requested to be excused from the gathering in the Hall of Fire and
escaped to his garden refuge, but to his dismay he found there was
no escaping the ache in his heart or his need for his newly
discovered love.

With a sad sigh, he left the darkness of the water and dressed
quickly, eager to return to his chamber where at least he could feel
the presence of Glorfindel nearby for the golden warrior's chambers
were across the hall way from his own. Knowing this would be both
torture and delight, Erestor warned himself, but his heart did not
seem to care as he became lost in thoughts of sparkling blue eyes
and silky golden tresses. So lost was he in imagining the feel of
soft lips on his, of hands slowly exploring every part of his body,
of the ecstasy of mutual pleasuring that he did not notice the last
strains of sweet yet melancholic music that seemed to whisper to
him alone, until it had almost faded softly into the night. He
recognised the instrument as a harp, and moved towards the place
where he thought the sound had come from, expecting to find Lindir
or one of the other minstrels. Instead he found no one and after a
brief search, left with a puzzled frown for there was no sign that
anyone had been there at all.

The next evening found Erestor again in his garden, seeking to
soothe his increasingly aching longing with the beauty of the night
and the coldness of the water, but he found no solace until he heard
the same sweet melody drifting on the warm evening breeze. The music
spoke to his soul in a way no other song had before, engulfing him
in an intense but unnamed feeling that almost hid the brief flicker
of joy that caused his heart to race.

Again he tried to follow the music to its source, but the melody he
was hearing did not sound quite as he imagined it should and in his
distraction he found that the elusive musician had again disappeared
without a trace.

Erestor returned to his chamber, but was unable to sleep with the
echo of the strangely beautiful song haunting his thoughts and after
a time he realised he knew a way to discover what was amiss. Taking
a lighted candle and a set of very old keys, he made his way through
the deserted passageways to the part of the house where the storage
rooms were located, and unlocked the door to the one where many of
his own personal effects were kept. He quickly located the
particular chest he sought, and reached inside to remove the long
silver case that was home to his Adar's flute. He had been taught to
play it as a child, but his interest in music had waned when his
parents sailed to Valinor and he had devoted his time and effort to
his studies instead.

He carefully removed the instrument and tried to play a few notes,
surprising himself at how easily he recalled the proper technique.
Not wishing to disturb anyone's rest with his practice at this early
hour of the morning, he took the flute back to his chamber and set
it on his bedside table. He would take it into the garden tonight
and see if he could play the melody that was still lingering at the
back of his mind.

The day passed slowly and Erestor's distraction did not go unnoticed
by a concerned Elrond, but aside from apologising for his
uncharacteristic mistakes, he did not further elaborate on what was
bothering him for he had no wish to discuss his love for Glorfindel
with his imagined rival.

Deciding that waiting until midnight was unwise given his current
state of turmoil, Erestor allowed his impatience to lead him and his
flute outside just after the evening meal had ended. He made his way
quickly to the place the unknown harpist seemed to favour, settled
down comfortably in the grass and began his own practice. After
several hours of unsuccessful attempts to make the song sound
complete, and having no idea what was missing, he angrily cast the
instrument aside and growled in frustration.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," said a soft voice from somewhere
behind him. Erestor had not heard anyone approach and turned sharply
around, startled to see blue eyes filled with starlight smiling at
him and a harp held in the slender hands of none other than
Glorfindel.

"It is you," was all he managed to whisper as his heart began racing
wildly. Without saying another word, the object of his desire sat
beside him and handed him his flute. Glorfindel then began to play
the song he had played each night, and a few moments later Erestor
joined in, his fingers finding the right notes of their own accord
as harp and flute combined in the sweetest of melodies.

Erestor closed his eyes and allowed the music to flow from his very
soul, his part of the melody combining in perfect harmony with that
of his companion's, filling his heart with love and hope of forever,
and when he opened his eyes again he saw that Glorfindel felt it too.

"'Tis not a single melody but a duet written by our hearts my love,"
he said as he gently pulled the flute away from the lips he needed
to claim as his own.

END